Broken
by Gaibriel Minuit Noire
Summary: Elizabeth Gates. Once Aliza Brown. I'm broken. Never to laugh or be normal again. Why did I return to this god forsaken city? So he wouldn't have the final laugh. Some how... he still got that laugh.
1. Chapter 1

There comes a time when everyone hates what they are. What they have become. Who they were. Who they lost.

You might be wondering why I'm talking about this. Why would you open a story like that? Because it is the truth. I'm telling my story and it is far from a happy story. No happy ending. No happy beginning. Just life. Cold and hard.

Where to start? Where the pain started. Where my end began. In New York. In the city of hell. Gotham...The place of memories.

I gazed out the window of the building I had once called my childhood home. Could it really have been so long? Could it really have been me that would rush up those stairs everyday as a child and hug my waiting mother? It had to have been. I was the only one in this house with dark brown hair. Father had had dark brown hair, but father dyed his hair. He hated reminders of his old home. His old life.

I sigh as I turn away from the window and look at the inside of a place I once called home. I had left this place. Gotten as far as I could from it. Avoided my family. I'd even changed my name. Elizabeth Gates. Once Aliza Brown.

_"ALIZA!" a male yelled in anger from downstairs. _

_The small teen hid in her mother's closet. She huddled in the furthest corner under the dirty clothes, behind her father's dresser. It was the only place he wouldn't look for her. She bit her lip as tears silently fell down her face. Her lip was busted from where she had been struck by the man. Not her father. The man her father had offered her to for an hour. The old, fat, balding man. _

_Aliza bit her lip and kept her mind on the here and now. She had to be able to hear if he was coming. She couldn't risk his wrath right now. Not ever. She should have ran. Only a promise to her mother kept her there. _Mom....

___Aliza burried her face against her knees. Father had sold her mother off. Lost her to a loan shark. Sold her off as a sex slave. Aliza held herself as she felt her heart break yet again. She could only feel pain now. No joy. No laughter to come from her again. Never. Broke. She was broken. _

I push the memory off as my eyes take in the room. It hadn't changed. Still a good house with nice furiniture. Left in the will. My father's will. The thought of father being dead seemed a release. I would never be free though. The broken are never truely free.

My new home. Gone for ever. No. Father is not gone for ever. He'll always huant my memories and this house. I'll take this as my home either way. It will be a small victory over him. I'm not going to give out and sell it, if he were here still he would laugh at how weak and pathetic I am. My hand closes into a tight fist as I look at the boxes on the floor. Mine now, never to be his again. Mine.


	2. Chapter 2

Nothing could make this seem more real. Waking up in my father's bed. No. My bed. It was mine now.

The sun shown in through the window I had opened the curtains to last night. A peaceful moment. I turn on my side with a soft sigh. Looking through the mass of my hair lazily to gaze at the backyard. How often do I get moments like this? Hardly, I avoid them. My hand lifts the hair from my face as I get up regretfully. I have to go to my new job today.

Getting up and pulling on those black slacks and that white blouse were not things I wanted to do. I had to work. I had to try and be normal. Pretend to not be broken. What's the point? It's so obvious that I'm broken. I rake a hand through my layered hair on the way into the office. Nothing to do but go about the day.

Everyone here wasn't broken. The woman who showed me where I would work was nothing but happy. I typed away at the computer working with the data and checking the accounts.

'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.''.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'

I found them. I found those pictures of mother that I had hidden from father. Right where I left them. I fall against my bed as I look at them all. I hurt to see them. Maybe that's why I hid them. I couldn't cry now, even if I tried.

I hate this town. I hate everything. I hate not knowing anyone in Gotham. I hate wishing to know somebody. I hate even thinking about this.

I sigh as I place the photograph on the bedside. I can pretend that I had a happy life. But... Who would ever see the inside of my home? Should I make it more feminine? I'll try that on my day off or during my lunch break tomorrow.

Music played in the background of my mind. I had gone as far as putting the sound system on. Something about smiling like you mean it.

I stand and go about what should be done. Unpacking. Finishing my claim to this house. My degrees went over the fire place. A picture of my mother and a group photo of friends from my old home. All in all, it looked like the home of any normal person. Just the way I wanted it to look.

''.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'..'.'.''..'.''.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'

I came to work with color today. I had a worn my usual black and white, but I added a red headband. People noticed me today.

I sat at my desk, working without thought. Headphones plugged into my computer, listening to some site I always use. Something to make this useless job seem to move faster.

"So."

I look up. A guy was leaning over the wall between our cubicals. A girl was leaning on the wall before my computer, the guy to my side.

"What made you come to Gotham?" the guy asks with a flirty smirk.

"Rob!" the girl chides. She flashes a friendly smile. "I'm Rebecca Striew and this is Robert Kelly."

I would smile back, but would it be rude to force a smile? Do it. I put on a smile that doesn't reach my eyes, it stays for only a heart beat.

"Elizabeth Gates," I say while offering a hand to Rebecca.

She smiles again. "So did you answer back yet?"

I give her a confused look. What is she talking about? She laughs softly and reaches over the wall and into my slot where they put mail or forms. A black card was there. She pulls it out and holds it out to me.

"No. I didn't even see it," I say while opening it.

An invitation to the next ball held by Mr. Bruce Wayne. How fitting. I look back up as Robert talks.

"So are you going?"

I shake my head. "I have no reason to go."

He looks shocked. His giger locks stood out starkly against the pale skin. He had a look as if he couldn't possibly understand why I wouldn't go. "You have to go," he cries as he grabs hold of my arms lightly.

Rebecca rolls her blue eyes while flipping her blond hair from her face. "Rob has the hots for Bruce."

That was shocking. I hadn't expected that. I flash a smile so he doesn't think that my pause meant that I didn't like him. Friends are friends. They help you be normal. I want normal. Could they help fix me? Probably not. I had friends now, I realized as I looked at the smiles on both of their faces. So open.


	3. Chapter 3

My eyes scan the hall as I rake my hair back into a ponytale. My hands worked at it deftly while I followed the male closer to my age. Not really closer. I'm 26 and he's 34, but he's the youngest person working here.

Here, is my second job. I have to have something to pay the bills and to keep busy. Free time meant time to remember and think of how I'm not normal. This meant I had more things to try to be normal with.

"Are you sure you're up to this, Miss Gates?" Alex asks as he stops in front of a door.

A guard stood on both sides of the door. I had to be searched when I came in. It would be a daily thing. They couldn't risk anything here. The guard checked our IDs before letting us go. The next guard stayed with us. I pushed the cart, silently following Alex.

I look up at the guard as Alex stops. The guard went for the door, hand to the walkie-talkie. "328 dinner."

"Clear," a voice said from the other end seconds later.

The guard stepped back as Alex used his key on the door after the buzz of the first lock. The white of my uniform made me stand out next to the guard in black. Alex pressed the door flush against the wall.

"First tray, Liz," Alex says with a bright voice, as always, and a smile to me.

My long bangs fell from the ponytale to frame my face as I grabbed the tray. Alex smiled into the room as I stepped up next to him.

"This one?" I ask, holding out the blue covered tray.

"Relax, Liz. Their all the same thing," Alex laughs while I look up at him.

My first thought was to smack that smile off his face. I fake a smile up at him. I'm good at faking smiles.

"Johnathan, we have a new friend for you to meet," Alex says while staying at the door and pushing me into the room.

I stumble forwards and bite back my remark before crouching, and keeping my face lowered. The tray set on the floor before the man before he reacted. I went to stand when he did. His hand snapped out fast, gripping the sleave of my white, form fitted long sleaved undershirt. I looked up to meet his eyes.

Blue eyes met my dark brown eyes. I just looked at him, calmly waiting for him to release me. He let go as the guard rested his hand on his gun. I flash a smile, to reasure him, before pulling away and standing. I put my back to him. Alex sends a frown at Crane for only a heartbeat. The guard was openly frowning. Not at Crane, at me. I have to turn to my side and slip by the guard, my chest brushes his arm in the attempt.

"Next room," Alex says cheerfully pushing the cart to the middle of the hall.

I take the tray as the guard opens the next door across the hall after shutting the last. A voice drifts out as it opens.

"Mrs. Griffeth," an old male voice with strange fluxuations and a highish lilt to it calls in light joy. "I was wondering when you were coming."

I get to the door before the guard almost throws me back. I smack into Alex, food plastering my smock. I glare at the man. Alex takes the tray fast.

"Oh, Liz," he says in worry, trying to use a rag from the cart to clean it off.

"It's fine, Alex," I say with light agrivation while pushing him off.

I yank the top off and throw it over the edge of the dirty linens basket on the front of the cart. Alex glances from the tight top to the guard and the man inside, trying to glance out at the show. The guard glares at me still as I grab another tray and brush past him, pushing him with my elbow to his abdomin.

"Excuse me," I say in my normal soft voice.

A rough push comes from behind, smacking into my back between the shoulder blades. I almost trip again, this time I expected it and only hold the tray away and balance. I send a triumphant smirk back at the guard. I glance into room then, my hair a light mess from the harsh removal of my shirt and the tripping.

A man in a straight jacket looked up at me. I frown lightly at the look on his face and the silence from Alex. I glance over my shoulder at Alex. Why wasn't he talking now? I stop that thought as soon as I see his face. This man scared Alex. Alex tried to look normal and happy. I turn back to the man.

"How is he supposed to eat without his hands?" I ask while glancing from the tray to the jacket on the man.

"_Well_, you're_no_**t **Mrs. Griffeth a**t** _all_," the man says while looking me over.

I ignore the comment and kneel with the tray bewteen us. The guard grabs me under my arm fast. I turn to glare up at him. He tried to pull me up. I remained down, my hard eyes on him.

"I was told that this was a good facility that took care of patients," I snip while yanking my arm away from him. "They also said there was a rule about harassment."

The guard backs off a few steps. Glarring harder at me. Alex stayed in the door way. I turn back to the man and smile. He had scars coming from his mouth in a permanent smile. He was smug and smiling brightly.

"Lizzy..." Alex says softly, taking one step toward me as I brushed my hair behind my ear and removed the cover from the tray. I glance at him from the corner of my eye.

"We-we don't...we don't worry about this patient," he says, reaching for me.

I look at the man, then glance at Alex for a breif moment. I frown at him.

"You show kindness to Mr. Crane, Alex. I may be new, but I know what my job is."

"Women should never work here," the guard sneers at me. "Especially younge females with no brains."

I grit my teeth, the only show of this was my chin tensing ever so slightly. I know the man before me caught it. I lift the spoon and stir the gravy into the mush that they called potatoes.

"I'm reporting this to the head," I say while focusing on my task.

The man before me laughed. "Soun**ds** like Officer Dan's, uh, upse**t** the _new_ girl," he laughs out while looking at the guard.

"Dan...," Alex says in a warning tone.

I glance at Alex. He flashes a bright smile. I turn back to getting a glob of potatoes on the spoon and looking at the man.

"I'm sorry about this. I'll help you today and talk to the head tonight about the jacket coming off for meal times," I say with a kind smile, his eyes went from my smile to my eyes.

He smirked quickly when he saw it didn't reach my eyes. I blink and look back at the food. Alex came in and stood behind me. I couldn't see his face now, as I lifted the spoon toward his mouth. The man took it happily, eyes dancing with mirth. It went by silently. He ate without a word, eyes glancing from me to Alex. When I finished Alex snatched up the tray before I could put the spoon down.

I rushed out after him, he was acting odd. The guard shut the door harder than was needed and moved on to the next.

"What's wrong?" I ask while grabbing the next tray.

"You just fed the Joker, Liz."

I shrug as I put the tray down before the person before stepping out again. "He's still a human."

He smiles as he takes the tray to the next person. I watch from the cart, ready with the next one. He was acting like he had before the scene in the room a few doors back. He flipped the bangs from his face as he came for the next.

The rest of the night went by fine. I spoke with the head and we came to the agreement. Officer Dan was reported as well.


	4. Chapter 4

My eyes hurt as I sat at my desk later than normal the next day. I usually got out a little before the rest, trying to get out before the rush and being ahead on my work. They apparently caught that and gave me more than normal.

I sigh as I glance at the clock. I would have to bring this to my second job with me. I sigh as I gather my laptop and load my briefcase quickly. I would have to run to catch the bus. I jogged for the elevator, trying to struggle the folder into my briefcase. I caught sight of the doors to the lift, open, but closing.

"Hold that elevator!" I call to the man in the lift while running full out now.

His hand shot out and pushed the doors lightly, they went back fast, waiting still. I stumbled into the lift, half panting from running from the other side of the building. My briefcase drops fast as I yank my blouse off, ignoring the man. My white fitted top was underneath. He looks down at me with a lifted brow as I struggle to get the white smock on before pulling on my jacket. I glance at him while grabbing my briefcase.

"Thanks," I say flashing one of my smiles, this one almost real.

The man was tall and obviously a looker. He had an expensive suit and screamed wealth. He was smiling as I pushed my blouse into my already crowded briefcase.

"In a hurry?"

I flash another smile while yanking my hair into a fast bun.

"Yeah. Boss found out I get done with work before my time and gave me more. So now I'm going to miss my bus and be late to my other job," I say quickly.

He looks a little confused at this. He looks over my clothes quickly taking them in. They didn't look cheep. They were meant to not look cheep. He wouldn't know that though.

"You have a second job? Are they not paying you enough?"

I let out a puff of air. "No. Their paying me pretty well. I just moved to town and I'm just living in a new house, higher bill than my last and other frivilous things. I doubt it's interesting."

The lift doors opened. I bolted out of them and ran for the bus that was pulling up.

"Hold the bus!!" I yell, waving my hand and rushing for the mother holding the bus, today I was getting lucky.

'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'

I was wrong. It started to rain on my way up through the gates and to the main building. I was half soaked as I got to the main building, ten minutes late. Alex was waiting for me. He frowned as I came in.

"You're late, Liz."

"Sorry, my other job held me up, and the bus had a change of route," I say while putting my things under the desk we would be at when not doing rounds.

"I clocked you in on time," he whispers as we go down the hall to our area.

I flash a smile at him and thank him while the guard opens the door for us to the R ward. Alex smiled once again as the officer on the other side of the door escorted me to the first room. It wasn't Dan this time. I glance at the name tag while pulling on my gloves and grabbing a tray. Olens.

"Good evening, Mr. Crane," I say in my usual tone, not overly happy. I had guessed that he didn't like the overly happy tone.

The brunette glanced up at me. Alex was in one of the lesser risk wards. I would be working this section alone today. The guard stayed at my door, relaxed and calm.

I set the tray down before him. "Today's meatloaf," I say while standing. He glances at my wet cloaths and hair as I turn and leave the room.

"The meatloaf is the worse," he says while I leave.

I glance back at him. "I guessed," I say while pausing in the door way. "I'll see if I can get something sweet from the snack machine later for you. The head won't mind if I remove the wrapper first and don't make it a daily habit."

The door closed as I went back to work. I saved the Joker for last. I slipped the small brownie from the plastic wrap as the guard watches me at the cart.

"What are you doing?" he asks, curious.

"Want half?" I ask while holding the browny out. "I didn't get dinner."

He chuckles as I bite into the brownie and hold it part way in my mouth, tray in my hands. He opens the door to the last room for me, steping in I focused on keeping the brownie where it was. The man was looking up at me as the guard stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him. The locks clicked into place as I set the tray down.

"I, uh, never got your _name_," the man they called Joker says while looking me over.

His eyes stopped on my feet, my nice black high heels werer there. I hadn't had a chance to change shoes, I was waiting until done with this. His brow lifts as he looks up to see me trying to hurry up and eat my brownie. I flash a look that questioned what was wrong as I swallowed the brownie fast.

"You have, uh,...strange taste in _shoes_ for an orderly."

All eyes went to my shoes. I hold my foot out a bit, looking at the shoe too.

"Didn't have time to change them. Shoes are shoes though." I shift gears while pulling my gloves off and stuffing them in my pocket. "Alright, so you get one arm to eat with us watching. Any odd moves and Olens stuns you."

I step forward as the man smiles widely. He leans forward quickly, into me. I stiffen for a moment, I had planned on going behind him and losening the strap.

"Back up, Joker," Olens warns.

I hold up my hand. "It's fine, Olens." I slowly reach around the man and loosen the strap to one arm. His left hand comes out fast as I pull away quickly. I hated touch like that. The man smirked at me as I put my back to the wall across from him.

He starts to eat, none the less, while his eyes rested on me. I sat down and stretched my legs out.

"Liz," I say suddenly, breaking the silence. "My name's Elizabeth."

"You're we**t**, El_iz_abe**th**," he says sounding out my name to enlongate it.

"It's raining."

He looks me in the eyes in a way that was almost disconcerting. I didn't look away though, both of our dark brown eyes locked. He wasn't a foul looking man. The greenish hair threw one for a loop but his features said he was once a man women would love to have been with.

"You were late."

I lift a brow. "Life happens."

I sigh as I look down and think over my work sitting at my station. My fingers twitched ever so slightly as I counted and calculated things.

"Is something wrong, Miss Gates?" Olens asks while flicking his eyes away from the Joker for only a moment.

I jump ever so slightly as I come out of my thoughts. I shake my head while looking up at him. Staring for a moment, trying to remember what he had asked.

"No. Fine. Just thinking, Olens," I say while standing up. My fingers moved again, giving away that I was counting, very fast at that.

"Miss Gates."

I frown softly as I look up at Olens. "What, Olens?" I almost snap at him.

"Are you sure you're fine?"  
"I'm quite fine, Olens. I'm trying to calculate something."

He frowns at me. "What would you need to calculate?" he almost sneered.

"I'm an accountant, Olens," I snap, almost hissing. "I calculate for a living."

He shuts up at the dark tent to my normally blank voice. He looks slightly ashamed, he won't look at me now. Maybe I'm not so normal. I sigh again and rub my temple. I hadn't gotten much sleep the night before.

"He's done."

I glance over my shoulder to look at the man. He was done. I didn't feel as broken when around him. I pause as a memory of father flashes in my mind.

_"You don't smile enough, Aliza," he says while cupping her half bruised face with a busted lip._

_"Why smile when I don't mean it?"_

_He back handed her. The girl looked back at her father. A cold hate danced in those eyes that had onced looked at him with adoration. He frowned as he took in the look and how pretty she looked still. Her head whipped to the side again as his hand struck again._

_"Don't look at me like that," he growls darkly. "You make me think of my mother."_

_"Then your mother hated you as much as me."_

_Her brown eyes danced with malice as he struck her again. Her head didn't whip this time, her will kept it looking dead at him, hardly flinching._

_"When you die, I shall laugh and smile once more," she sneers darkly. _

A soft giggle came from my lips as I shook my head softly. I had too. Olens glanced at me as I crossed the room and pushed the tray away with my foot.

"What's so funny?" Olens asks, fully curious, like I had left him out of the greatest joke on Earth.

"Nothing, Olens. Just something I was thinking of," I mutter while the man before me went willingly back to the previous way I found him, strapped up.

"It didn't sound like nothing."

"It was just a thought, Olens."

"Ye-ah, _Olens_sss," the man half laughs. "It was only a, uh, _though_**t**."

I gather the tray and Olens opens the door quickly. I glance back at the man as he laughs harder.

"See you la**t**er, _Lizzy_," he says with a smirk through the laugh as the door shuts.


	5. Chapter 5

"He's a nutter," Olens mutters while we push the cart down the hall and to the desk for this ward.

"No. He's not, Olens. His mind is just having troubles," I say while sitting behind the desk. He nods, not wanting to argue before going back to his station on the other side of the room.

I pull out my last brownie from the briefcase and set it to the side for Crane. I didn't feel like going all the way to the other side of the building at the moment. My hands mechanically worked at the numbers before me. My mind was half in it though, it was off in the memories of my father.

_"Liza!" The small girl's head shot up from the picture before her. A smile broke across her lips as she rushed down the stairs toward the voice that called to her. _

_"Mom!" she cries as she crosses the room like a blur to smash into her mother's leg. Both smiled and hugged while the man sat at the table, frowning at them both. Her mom pulled away and held her at arm length to get a view of her face._

_"How was today with your father?" she asks, eyes only for the girl._

_She flashes a smile. "Dad got me a box of cranyons and a color book today when we went out."_

_Her mother frowns now. Aliza didn't like it when her mother frowned. "Where did you go today?"_

_"Some building with lots of men crowding a table and smoke every where. One man was nice and took me in back and let me watch cartoons!" she says happily. _

_"Good, good," her mother was distracted as she frowned at her husband. "Go on upstairs and start getting your bed time clothes ready."_

_Aliza smiled and kissed her mother's cheek before going off. She hummed while digging in her drawers while standing on a stool. The top drawer with her undies was too tall for her, so her mother got a pretty pale purple stool for her to use. Aliza could hardly be distracted while focusing only on the task at hand._

_"I TOLD YOU NEVER TO TAKE HER THERE, TRENT!" her mother yelled from the kitchen at her father._

_"DON'T RAISE YOUR VOICE TO ME, ANDY!" her father roared back._

_A sudden sound filled the house, the unmistakable sound of skin hitting skin. Aliza froze. Glass shattered after hearing a shrill scream. Everything was silent. No body moved, not even the child. Time seemed slow and like her mind was fogged. _

_Aliza was out of her room and thundering down the stairs without thought. She slid to a stop in the doorway to the kitchen. "MOMMY!" Aliza screamed at the sight of her mother. Her mother lay on the floor, the glass of teh kitchen table surrounding her and a gash on her face. Aliza was at the phone in seconds. The school teachers said to call the 911 if anyone was hurt or in danger. She did just that, her father stood over her mother with a stunned but burning look._

The clearing of a throat brought me back. I glance up at Olens as he shifts his weight. My brow lifts as I wait for him to get what he wanted to say out.

"Shouldn't we be getting the trays?"

I glance at the time. We should have ten minutes ago. I hop up and set to work. Tonight would be a long night.

'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'

"You better be going to that ball," Rebecca says while popping into the elevator with me the day before the ball.

I jump as I look at her. She had seemed to come from nowhere. Rob was next to her.

"I was planning on it," I say while shifting my weight, eyes to the changing floor numbers. "I bought a dress already."

"Do you have work tonight?" Rob asks, leaning forward to see around Rebby.

"No."

He smiles with a mischievous gleam. I open my mouth to ask what the look was for but get cut off. A shrill ring was emitting from my light jacket's pocket. Both sets of eyes in the elevator were on me.

"Hello?"

"Is this Elizabeth Gates?" a male asks from the other end, lightly covering his frantic tone.

"Yes. Who is this?"

"Code 9."

The phone went dead. I snap the phone shut as the doors open. I bolted out of them and ran for the front doors, pushing through people.

"Watch out!" I cry while diving around somebody and pushing through the crowd for the bus.

People yelled curses after me as I went for the first taxi I saw waiting. The man getting in was in no hurry. I dove into the taxi next to him. I was panting as all eyes turned to me.

"I'll pay for the whole bill if you take me to the asylum as fast as you can," I gasp out with my eyes on the man next to me.

He lifts a brow but nods. The driver turns around and pushes into the traffic quickly. I'm digging in my coat for my phone.

"You're in a hurry. Is something wrong?" the man next to me asks while I find the number I'm looking for.

"Deadly wrong. When we get to the asylum, you'll want to get out of there as fast as you can," I say while pressing to phone to my ear. My dress was pressed a little higher up my thighs from my abrupt entrance. My heeled foot bounced as I nervously waited for someone to pick up. They never did.

After a what felt like for ever we pulled closer to the asylum. Police were right behind us. I threw a hundred dollar bill at the man next to me and jumped out of the taxi before it had pulled to a full halt. I ran up the drive as fast as I could, a few cops driving past me. I wasn't stopped by the guard. When I got to the main entrance cops were surrounding it. I push through, holding my work ID in the air for them to see.

They let me by without question then. My feet took me for my ward, my heart in my throat. My aching feet were far from my mind as I spotted the door for my ward, blown off. Officer Dan, the head and man with the police were all in the middle of my ward. My briefcase fell to the floor by the desk as I rushed over.

The head saw me coming. He looked grim but slightly relieved. I almost gasped for breath as I came over to them, cheeks flushed and hand to my side. Dan and the older man were looking me over. It was obvious that I had come from an upscale job. The black dress and nice jacket seeming rumpled from my rush here.

"Sorry," I take as small gasp of air, "I took so long. Just got off my other job." I take a moment to catch my breath, eyes scanning the small ward. Dan's hate for me, which had grown in the last few weeks, glowed in his eyes as he looked at me. The plass looked fine, but.... There was blood on the floor by one room I knew well.

I resisted the urge to go look. My eyes went to the older man I didn't know. He was trying to read me. I lock eyes with him, willing him to read me.

"Patient number 39001 escaped," the head says while looking at me, blaming me, just as much as Dan did.

"Joker?" I ask in puff of air deflating from my chest. Disbelief clear in my voice and body. "I-I just spoke with him last night at 1:30 am."

I push past them, rushing for the room. I had to know who's blood it was. The man reaches for me, trying to grab my arm and stop me. I dodged him, eyes only for the room. I stumble to the door, hands grasping both sides of the door frame.

I almost choked as I saw it. Blood was everywhere. One man lay on the floor. My eyes widen at the sight. "Olens," I whisper. Olens had become a friend, dispite his worry for me. Women didn't last long here at the asylum. I was careful not to step on the blood and touch nothing as I stepped into the room. I crouch with my back to the wall as I look at something on the floor, sticking out of what remained of Olens' left hand. The men were at the door watching me.

My hair fell toward my face as my breath caught. The man was at my side in seconds, looking at the thing in my hand. The plastic wrapper was from a candy bar, or that's what it looked like. It was the wrapper of an Asian candy I had gotten from an Asian market.

"What is that?"

"A candy wrapper," I say while passing it to him, I hid my look of shock at the wrapper with horror of the death.

He frowns at it. "How did it get in here?"

"Miss Gates?" Dan sneers at me.

All eyes go to me. I flush lightly. "I give sweets to all of the people in this ward once a week, mixing up who gets what each day," I say while standing. My eyes were on the man next to me. "I gave those to Joker and another roll to Crane last night."

The head looks as mad as can be. "You give the patients-!" he started to go on a tangent.

"It never said I couldn't give them a sweet, Head," I say sternly while looking at him. "If they misbehaved, they got nothing. I did it at my last position as well. If anything, it makes them behave better so they have something to look forward to."

"I don't care, Miss Gates. You are supposed to ask the head before doing anything," he snaps sharply.

I cock my hip out as my eyes lock on the head's. "Should I ask to use the restroom too?" I hiss. I calm myself quickly, letting a pause hang and a breath out. "I asked the person who was incharge while you were out. Alex. He said there was nothing wrong with it, he liked the idea."

"Miss Gates," the man next to me says, breaking the moment.

I turn my head to the man. He flashes a tired smile, but it's a real smile. I do not smile.

"I'm Commissioner James Gordon," he says with an offered hand.

I glance at it for a moment before taking it. "Elizabeth Gates."

"This is your fault, Gates," Dan sneers.

My head whips around to look at him. My hand was forgotten in the grip with Gordon. Dan was sneering openly as he looked me over in distaste.

"How so, Dan? Is it because I'm a 'young female with no brains'? That's what you said my first night here. Tell me, Dan. How is this my fault? Tell me," I almost snap.

He doesn't seem to want to say anything. His teeth grit as he bites back his comment and the anger that I had quoted him. Something comes though.

"It's your fault that he got out because you got him out of the straight jacket."

My brow lifts, mocking him, clearly. "Clearly," I drawl sarcastically while rolling my eyes. "He had no way to eat. I'm too humane to make him eat like a dog and it was one arm under guarded supervision, Dan. This was an inside job. Somebody got him out. Somebody was helping the Joker and it wasn't me."

"You have no proof that it wasn't you," Dan snaps quickly.

The head was clearly showing a new respect for me. He hadn't thought much through and was looking for a person to blame.

"I do, Dan. The only contact I had with the Joker was meal time and restroom breaks before bed. The breaks were taken care of by the guards. There are tapes. Watch them."


	6. Chapter 6

Gordon sighs as we drive toward my house. He had offered me a ride since he had a hunch he was saying nothing about and that he wanted to talk. He didn't say that he wanted to talk though, I could just feel it. I sat with my buckle pulled tight and my head resting on the taught strap by my head. He had yet to talk, maybe he wasn't sure if he should.

"You're not getting any where with this," I say lazily, I was tired and the adrinaline that had shot through me earlier was sapping energy from me.

Gordon looks startled. "With what?"

"You wanted to talk. Just do it."

He clears his throat and glances at me once. Yeah, he was nervous about it.

"The uh,... the mob has people in the asylum." He left it there. He wanted my response to that.

"I'm not entirely new to Gotham, Gordon. I grew up here and got the hell out when I could."

He looks a little startled as he looks back at me. "So why did you come back?"

I sigh as I feel that hollow feeling I've been trying to push off while in a city so full of life. That hope that their life would help was all a lie, I knew it but I kept it up. That light pain picked up too. I avoided looking at him.

"Family."

He smiles. "Family's the only thing that would ever bring me back if I got out," he says. "So who was it? Is it something serious?"

"My father died," I say in a matter-of-fact tone. I whisper the last to myself. "I didn't come back for the funeral. I came back to take control of what he ruined."

He looks at me with new eyes then. My story wasn't new to Gotham. Not _mine_ exactly, but the type of story like mine. I sigh as I sit up a bit.

"Take a left here."

His brow furls as he turns. Did he not expect me to live in this neighborhood? It was the kind that was two floors, slim, enough room between each house for a thin person to slip through, and over a hundred years old. A good neighborhood, in a good part of town.

"Fifth on the right."

He slows, thoroughly frowning. He pulls over and parks the car in front of my home. It stood out with a bad lawn, tall grass and no flowers. I grab my briefcase and ready to get out. Something stops me. I glance back at Gordon. He was almost glaring at my house.

"You live here?" he asks like he couldn't piece it together. His eyes are all for me now, reading me yet again.

I glance at my home. "Yeah...."

"Trenton Brown was your father?"

My hand on the door handle turned white with the grip it suddenly got with the mention of that name. I push the door open with out a word, back stiff, and shut the door, leaving him. Anger seeths in me as I go up to my door and almost throw it closed behind me.

My back presses to the door, my eyes had closed as soon as my door opened. I slid down the door slowly with my head back looking up. My briefcase was forgotten as I pulled my knees to my chest and hugged myself. The memory of all the pain filled me. All the abuse, the betrayal, the realizations... Everything. I felt the sting in my heart as I fought off the tears that wished to come.

I had made a promise. I wouldn't cry for him again. Trent deserved nothing. My trapped, broken heart beat as fast as it could, slowing as I fought the pain. This was the only way I knew. Fight and forget. Nothing but the here and now. Come on, Liz. Here and now. You are Elizabeth, not Aliza. Eliz-

"Well, what's this?"

My eyes snap open at the male voice. They lit on a small group of men. Three to be exact. All were dressed almost formally. Mob. A hand gripped my arm and yanked me to my feet. There would be a bruise there. A startled noise escaped me as I stumbled on my feet and fell into a chest.

They pushed me off quickly. "Well, who do we have here?" the leader says while looking at me, the men passing me around to look at.

"Let me go," I say while trying to break out of their hold.

"Looks a lot like Trent, Joe."

"Ya, a _lot _like Trent and that pretty woman he sold boss, Joe."

The one named Joe, the leader, smirked as he looked me over with a new eye. "Well, boys, you're quite right. You're Trent's baby girl," he laughs while pulling me to him and holding onto my wrist in a crushing grip.

"What do you want?" I snap, finally letting some of my anger out.

His hand swung out, connecting with my face. My head whipped to the side as only his hold held me up. I turned my head back to look at him. He smirked, I tasted blood after a quick lick of my lips. Split. My hate glowed in my eyes.

"Well, that proves it. Trent was her dad. Only a mob daughter looks at us like that," Joe says with a laugh.

I fall backwards as he pushes me to the couch. He stood before me, him men spaced around the room, at the exits.

"So, babe," he says while looking at his nails. "Your dad went off and didn't pay his debts."

"That has nothing to do with me. The money in his accounts went to the mob as soon as he died," I snap.

"Not enough to cover it all," he says with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Lier," I hiss, bursting to my feet. He frowns. He hadn't expected me to catch it. "I know the look of greed in a man's eyes. I work with profesional liers. You're not here on mob business. You're here on your own." I motion my hand around the room. "You're here to try and take what was Trent's. It's mine now. Legally."

I fly forwards after a sharp hit from the man behind me. My eyes widened as I fell toward the glass table before me. Joe tried to reach out and catch me. He failed as I hit the glass, hands first, trying to catch my fall. The glass shattered easily, my upper body falling through the metal frame. Only my hands pressed hard into the glass and the tips of my toes held me up. I didn't dare move, the sound still rang in my ears. The mobsters all looked shocked.

A pounding on the door came quickly after. All of their eyes were on the door.

"Go out the back door fast," Joe said while running for it.

The men followed, leaving me in this odd predicament. If I tried to get up, I would fall forwards more and cut my hands worse, or get my abdomin cut on the glass that remainded on the edges of the frame.

My door was thrown open seconds after the men had gone out the back. I had yet to move, my hair fanned out over my face, and streched like the cat or what ever from my old yoga classes. The person froze at the doorway to my livingroom.

"Miss Gates," the person says quickly, rushing to my side and grabbing my hips to pull me up.

A sharp cry escaped my lips as the pressure on my hands is lessened and the sudden sting across my abdomin. He held me up as I gasped through the pain. Gordon looked worried as he took in my state. I looked down at the warm feeling on my abdomin, the sting forgotten. My shirt clung to my body, a liquid soaking the front slowly.

Gordon quickly pulled his phone out as he rushed me to his SUV. I was too shocked, focused on the blood and glass in my hands. I heared the sirins on his car and felt us swerving through traffic. My door opened without warning, I hadn't noticed we had stopped. My eyes lazily looked at the person, a male officer.

I was lifted from the car by the man and rushed inside. The doctors and nurses were rushing our way with a gurney. Things went by in a blur, doctors talking around me, my mind lost in thought.

I sigh as I sit up, bandages around my abdomin and my hands. Gordon was talking with the doctor outside the door. Gordon had over reacted, in my opinion. I could have done all of this one my own at home.

"Miss Gates."

I look up, Gordon. "I need you to tell me what happened."

"I'm not reporting this."

He frowns at my answer. He had thought I would sing like a cannary. I slip off the edge of the table and push my hair out of my face. The doctor is standing to the side watching me.

"Miss, you really need to tell us."

"I fell," I snip with a glare. I was tired and in need of more sleep than I had been getting lately. "Mail me the bill. I'm going home." I push past the men.

"Miss Gates, I insist that I give you a ride," Gordon says while following me.

"I'm taking the bus."


	7. Chapter 7

I would like to thank Cybernetic Mango for the reviews. Their hilarious most of the time and make me smile. To think that I can get such great people to read. (sighs contentedly)

---

Why did I have to be such a smart mouth? I sigh and put my head in my gloved hands. Work wasn't going as well today. I had my hair down for once, half of my face was purposely covered by it. There was a bruise on my face that I had no time to cover with make up, even if I could find anything to cover it with it would still be obvious.

My eyes flicked to the clock. 5. I'm going. The remaining work can wait until Monday anyway. I got up quickly, slipping my bag over my shoulder. Rob looked up as I stood.

"Clocking out earlier than normal?" he asks while watching me turn my stuff off for the weekend.

"Yeah," I say, unconsciously flipping my hair from my face to talk to him. "I'm going to hurry home to get ready for tonight."

His eyes widened as he stood sharply, his calculations were forgotten. I flipped my hair back in place before making it clear that I didn't want to talk about it. A man stood in the elevator when I got there. He smiled politely as I stepped in. He was dressed in another expensive suit. He must work for one of the higher off jobs.

"How are you today?" he asks with a warm, friendly tone.

"Fine. You?" It was all polite banter.

"Are you coming tonight?" he asks while glancing over my attire. It was my normal business skirt and blouse today.

"Unfortunately, yes. Rob and Rebby would kill me if I didn't go," I say with a half smile.

He smiles again. "Good to hear."

I lightly turn my head to look up at him, brushing the hair from the unbruised side of my face. His eyes lit on my exposed wrist. I blushed and hid it behind my skirt quickly.

"What happened to your wrist?"

"Nothing," I say quickly with a hopeful glance at the numbers showing what floor we were on.

He left it there. I think he picked up on my unease. The doors opened and I took my exit quickly. I could feel his eyes on my back as I crossed the lobby. My eyes lifted from my feet to glance out the doors and light on the street. Busy.... A frown came to my face as I slowed my pace. The crowd still carried me out of the doors. I tried to blend and sneak off. Gordon would have none of it though.

"Miss Gates!" he calls motioning to me.

People on the street turned to look at me. I turned, sinking in upon myself a bit and slunk over to him. I was frowning as I reached him. He gave me a tired, but friendly smile.

"I hoped to talk with you," he says in his friendly tone. I didn't notice his eyes look over my shoulder.

"I had hoped you would leave me be, Commissioner," I say while flicking my hair from my face unconsciously. It was humid today and my hair wasn't helping the heat.

"Is there something wrong?" a man says from behind me.

I stiffen, the man from the elevator. Gordon clears his throat as his eyes stay on my face. I didn't care much about him seeing my bruises. I kept my back to the man though.

"No. I was just wishing to speak with Miss Gates about something from the other night," Gordon says with a half smile, nervous.

Yes, the broken girl needs to be talked to like a child. My eye twitches once at my own thought. I hadn't thought too much on being broken lately and I had hoped. I knew it wouldn't last too long. I rub my face, why did I come back? To take control. The man must have nodded and left, Gordon relaxed and looked back at me. He opened the passenger door.

"Hop in, I'll give you a ride."

The look in his eye said there was no way out of it. He smiled as I got in and buckled up. Time for another awkward ride. Silence ruled the SUV again as we started the drive to my home.

"Why wont you say what happened?" he asks, breaking the silence faster than I thought he would.

"I don't want them to have a reason to come after me. That was all an accident."

"What happened to your mother, Aliza?"

I stiffen, eyes widening. My hands scrunched hard, causing the pain in my hands to draw away from the pain in my heart. Not going back into there. Stay here. Not her.

"Elizabeth," I hiss. "I'm not Aliza anymore. I'm Elizabeth."

He nods. "I understand. What happened, Elizabeth?"

He was pulling up to my house. I grabbed the door and opened it before he fully stopped. I turned my head slightly, ready to close the door.

"Sold," I say through grit teeth, eyes avoiding looking at him.

I left him quickly. I locked my door and dropped my bag on the couch. The house was silent, empty. I sighed and fell onto the couch. The hollow pain came quickly, enveloping me. Mother.

'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'

The skirt of the black dress brushed my knees as I walked into the ballroom of the mansion. My hair hung down in light waves from the shower. I hadn't brushed it, wanting to keep the waves that were in it. I cursed my mind. Why had I worn such high heels? Because you wanted to fit in. All the girls would have fancy, heels that were at least three inches.

"Beth!" a girl calls while almost tackling me.

I my eyes caught sight of Rob over her shoulder. He was frowning as he looked over my blemish free face. He looked away as Rebby and I pulled apart. Her dress was a teal blue that made her figure stand out more, or seem more developed than it was.

"I'm so glad you came, Beth," Rob says with a hug too, pretending to forget about the bruise he saw at work.

"Can't say I'm too flattered," I mutter while Rebby presses a flute of wine into my hand and Rob pushes me along to meet people. "I hate social events."

"But how are we ever going to find our little Beth a man if she never socializes?" Rob says while pushing me to the side a bit to make it clear that I'm not his date, once he knew I would walk on my own. No way in Hell was I going to be in this place without one of them there. Things like this scare me.

Rob and Rebby were making a bee line for the back of the ballroom, toward the thick of the crowd. I felt the flutter of my heart, the pause and clench of fear. The chill ran through my body without mercy as my feet stopped just outside of the larger group of people. I was doing my best not to show my fear.

"Beth?" Rebby asks, stopping to look back at me. She was clearly worried as she caught my look. She rushed over and put an arm around me. Yes, baby the broken girl. Just act like she's too dumb to take care of herself. Rob was already in the group when he noticed us no longer behind him.

"Is something wrong?" he asks, clearly anxious to get back into the group.

"Fine," I say smoothly, hiding what I really thought or wanted to say. "Go on ahead. I'll be in in a moment."

Rebby smiles as she looks at Rob. He looked like he wanted to argue and drag me in. She would have none of it, her hand gripped his wrist and she dragged him without mercy into the crowd. A sigh of relief escaped me as they left me. I felt muscles in my body that I hadn't known were tensed, loosen. It was now that I took a big drink of my wine, more like chugged it.

"More wine, Miss?" a clear English accented man asked, seeming to pop out of nowhere.

I jump a little as I clutch my glass and look at him. He smiled. One of those friendly smiles that makes it clear that he was a nice, good hearted man to the bone. I catch myself smiling back.

"Uh," I look down at my flute, a blush reaching my cheeks.

"I suggest more, if you wish to make the night," he says in a whisper and a wink focused on me. "First time's always the worse."

I can feel the flaming red on my cheeks, but I knew he couldn't see it through my thick make up. "That obvious?"

"Deathly." He smoothly takes my flute and slips another into my hand. "We all have to go through it some time."

He slipped into the crowd, passing out wine. I felt a warm glow from my center. How he had done it, I had no clue. But he had made me feel normal. I drank my wine quickly and slipped over to the wall, trying to get away from the large crowd. My feet took me toward the archway across the room as the night went on and I had yet to find Rebby and Rob.

Now where is that bathroom? I looked around a corner, I wasn't quite sure where I was. My back smacked the wall at the sound of shoe covered feet coming my way. My heart felt as if it stopped when the feet did. My eyes lifted to look at the man. An embarrassed smile came too my lips as I felt like the proverbial, deer in the headlights.

"Hello," he says with a smile down at me.

The man from the elevator. He looked even better now. Did I ever mention I don't have a head for wine? He glanced over my state, not seeming to notice that I was semi-drunk.

"Hi." He smiles more.

"I don't think I've caught your name," he says with a flirty look. Wow, I'm being hit on? That's new. No. My eyes were on his, reading them. He was pretending to flirt so he could get my name.

"Nor have I caught yours. But I'm not too sure now is the time for greetings. I seem to have lost my way to my original destination. Do you know where the bathroom is?" That caught him for a loop. I wasn't melting at his feet, he seemed to mentally back track and reel forwards again. A smile came back to his lips.

"There," he says while pointing to the room across from me and a few doors down toward the way I had come.

"They need to clearly mark which room is the restroom when there are parties here," I mutter while quickly making my way to the room.

I shut the door behind me when I was done. My eyes landed on the man from before. He flashed a smile at me when he caught my eyes. My brow lifted, for some reason I had an odd feeling about him. I didn't feel nervous with him.

"Do you mind if I walk back with you?"

"Only if you know the way back," I laugh softly.

He chuckles. "So, I've seen you around work."

I roll my eyes as I follow him. The sound of the crowd seemed to come from nowhere as we rounded a corner. The man watched as I left him, heading toward the main floor, trying to find my friends. My eyes closed in bliss and fearful memories as I heard the song. Roy's voice brought back the memories of mother and painful things I pushed off to keep my sanity intact.

Arms swept me up and danced me to the floor. I didn't dare open my eyes as I was gracefully led around the floor. I didn't want to ruin this moment. I didn't feel broken as I listened to the music and moved. I saw all the happy memories flashing in my mind as the person's hand rested on my hip and the other held up my hand. Touching like this would usually make me nervous, but it was soothing to move with the person. I felt a real smile touch my lips as I heard them lightly singing along, unknowing to the fact that I could hear.

I was pulled closer to the person as the song came to an end. I had to look, one could only pretend for so long. My eyes opened slowly as I pulled away, blushing already. I couldn't bring myself to look at the person.

"Thank you for the dance, sir," I say with my eyes down.

I rushed off before they could say a word. I had spotted the tray with the wine. A relieved sigh came to me as I saw Rebby at the tray with another male.

"Rebby!" I call as I rush over.

She looked up at the sound of her name. It was clear she had not expected me. She was happy none the less. "Beth, where have you been?"

"I was looking for you." My eyes flick to the man next to her, only to know what he looked like, nobody could be too cautious in Gotham. My eyes widened as I looked away as quickly as I could. "I'm leaving, Rebby. If I stay any longer I'm going to drink myself senseless."

"I'll give you a ride home, Beth. Please-"

"I can't, Rebby. I have to get to bed soon, you know that. Besides, I've stayed too long as it is."

"Come on, Beth. Normal people take days off every now and then."

I felt a sharp sting in my heart. Normal. I'm not normal. I looked away from her, biting back my pain at not being normal. She looked startled by my reaction as I left her there. The walk through the crowd seemed small as I grabbed a flute of wine on my way to the door. I could hardly think of them as I felt that pain that was usually ignored. Nobody seemed to notice me as I went out to drive. I sat on the steps as I waited for the taxi to come. I didn't remember calling them, but I know I had. The pain was enough to have me holding my sides tight.

"Miss?"

Not him, God, not him. My eyes opened to look over my shoulder at the person. He smiled as he sat next to me. I had to pretend to not hurt. If he thought I was hurting he would do something, I could tell he was that type. The man from the hall and lift, dear lord, was he following me? No. Just come out for air and saw me. Nobody would follow me. Who wants to follow a broken woman? Nobody, that's who.

"Is something wrong?" he asks as his eyes catch mine finally seeing something in them. Was it the pain or the alcohol?

"I've never had a head for wine," I laugh, change the focus, PRETEND, ELIZABETH!

He smiles as he sees the light red tent to my cheeks, and the half full flute in my hand.

"Perhaps you shouldn't have more then," he says taking the flute gently from my hand.

I blush at the touch, playing it as embarrassment at not thinking of that myself.

"I'm not one for crowds. It seemed manageable with the liquid courage," I mutter truthfully while brushing my hair from my face.

He seemed to glow as he smiled, looking me over, memorizing my features and seeing into what he thought was me, what I felt like around him. I blush as I look down at my feet.

"I'm Bruce by the way," he says kindly. He was so kind. Was he too kind?

I flash a real smile at him, feeling the pain in me lift, gone. "Elizabeth," I say. I wonder if he could tell that this smile was true, understanding that the others had been fake?

Both of us turn to look back at the doors as we hear a sharp out cry.


	8. Chapter 8

Bruce was gone as I ran for the doors, hoping to help where I could. I had to fight with the crowd of people rushing out to get in. The music was playing still, long forgotten as the DJ ran from the system and joined the crowds trying to run for their lives. I was running toward the danger. Who would care if a broken girl gave her meaningless, useless life to save one that wasn't broken?

I was pushed from behind suddenly, they were trying to use me as a force to move forward faster. I cried out as I fell into the opening. I fell into the drink table without warning. Glass shattered around me, covering me in the liquid, causing the concealing powder I had carefully put on to wash off easily. Silence filled the room as the sound had caught all ears. People stopped, startled to see who had caught the attention of the threat. I still had no clue who the threat was.

I sat still on the floor, gasping at the pain from the alcohol soaking into the bandages on my hands and the ones around the gash in my abdomen. Dear God it hurt! I forgot the pain at the sound of shoes coming toward me and the words cried in the background by Rebby.

"BETH!" Rebby screeched as she tried to fight against the males holding her back.

My eyes lifted from my hands to look at the shoes inches from me. Beaten up old brown shoes. I follow them up the purple slacks to the purple coat over the purple jacket, green vest, and hexagonal design shirt. Up they went to the white, black and red face with green hair falling in oily curls. I didn't really know who it was at first.

"**W**el-lll-uh, if i**t **ain**t** my _nurse_," the man says with a smile that sickened everyone. I had no issue with it. The red made it odd, but I was still dazed by my drinks.

He pulled me up and frowned as he looked me over. "Wha**t** happene**d t**o yuh, Lizzy dear?" I stumble for a moment as I avoid clutching with my hands and curl my arm around his to catch myself. My feet hurt from the heels and the alcohol was hitting me hard, making me clumsy.

My eyes searched his face from the close distance, trying to push through a haze in my mind to put a name to him. Try as I might, he gave me little time. I stumbled, my hands automatically moving, smashing into his chest to not fall as his hands gripped my face to get a better look at the damage of my face and my eyes.

He actually growled as his eyes looked at the visible mark on my face. His eyes looked at mine trying to read something. I bet all he could see was the drunken fog in them and the pain from my injuries. His cheshire grin made me wonder why he would try to make it the most memorable thing about him. It looked nice in a creepy, clown way. Clown…..My brow furled as I studied his face closer, trying to see beneath the paint. It dawned quickly as he ripped my glove off, looking at the bruise when he spotted the blood stained bandage. He was looking me over like I was his or something. I steel my emotions and put on a calm visage. Just like I would with tricky patients at the Asylum. I jerked my hand back, stepping back. The whole situation had a way of clearing my head of the fog.

"You killed Olens, Joker." I was stern. He could hear the disappointment in my voice.

"O**l**en_s_? You mean the _guar_**d**_?_" He was smirking again.

"Yes. Olens was the guard who worked during my shift."

He smirked as he took menacing steps closer, eating up the distance I had made without trouble. His long legs made the distance seem insignificant. He gripped my chin, forcing me to look up at him, exposing my discolored side to the room.

"You'_re_ **hurt**, _nurse_," he says with a smirk, mirth dancing in his tone as he said it.

I turn my face away, effectively removing his hand. My hurt hands go to him hips as I look up at him, chidingly, standing my ground. He didn't intimidate me.

"So what if I am." It came out a snap. I was getting attitude with him, he was somebody I didn't even think twice about when it came to actions, I just did. "I have a life too."

His smile fell and turned to a dark look. I didn't flinch as I flicked the hair from my face with a swing of my head. I didn't look away from his eyes, showing just as much determination as his anger.

"Who _hurt__** you**__?" _It was a demand that had been growled out in a frightening voice. Father and his scary friends had done it often to me. Nothing from this man could really scare me.

"What's it to you? I'm not yours."

He was on me in seconds. I let out a startled sound as we stumbled back a few steps before I couldn't scramble on my heels any more. I fell flat on my back, cracking my head against the floor. I winced at the pain, but it was nothing to the feeling of the stitches in my abdomen tearing open. I let out a shrill cry, my hurt hands gripping him, driving my nails into the coat. God it hurt. It hurt so much.

"Leave her be, Joker," a growling dark voice called from behind us. My eyes were squeezed shut. I didn't want to look. I knew I would see the blood of the reopened gash and feel the pain worse.

The weight on me was gone in seconds, with laughter filling my ears. A hand lightly touched my face.

"Miss?" It was the English man.

My eyes opened to look up at him. I made sure to look only at him. He looked worried. "Can you stand?"

"No-Not with my heels," I say while putting a hand to my wound.

He leaned over and removed them quickly. A man I didn't know put an am under my thin shoulders, helping lift me to my feet. My heels dangled from the older man's free hand, the other was used to push people from the way. I walked quickly with the help of the man, the room was semi crowded. Those who got out at the first scream where the only ones out.

We reached the hall quickly, quicker than I thought we would have. The only sounds in the hall were the men's hurried steps and my gasping, pained breaths. I had come this way earlier with Bruce. Where was Bruce? Where's Rebby and Rob? Did they get out? I hope so.

"In here," the older man whispers, holding a door open. We maneuvered into the room. It was a nicely done up bedroom. "On the bed. She'll have to get the dress up so we can see the wound."

"I hope it's not a stab wound," the male said as he lay me on the bed.

"No," I mutter while catching my breath. "My stitches were torn open."

"Ready?" the older man says.

I nod. The blankets were turned down thankfully, My feet slipped under the blanket. He jerked the dress up to expose my middle up to the sash of the dress, letting it rest on my chest. He pulled the blanket up to cover my bottom half, to keep some modesty. He was a gentleman.

"On the shelf by the dresser is a decanter, fill one of the glasses with it and make sure she drinks it."

The older man left to the door I assumed led to the closet. I watched the man as he quickly cross the room and set to his task. He was a tall, lean man, like Joker, but for some reason this man didn't look like he was as strong, his limbs looking slimmer. It was strangely surprising that he had all but carried me to the room and didn't look like it bothered him. He came to me in quick strides, lifting my head. I took the glass and swallowed the golden liquid without question.

"So you're a nurse?"

My eyes lift to look up at him. The warmth filled my stomach as the drink hit me, a strong drink. Damn. The light foggy glow I get when drunk hit me as I felt my cheeks flush.

"Yes, in a way."

"Where is it you work?"

"The Asylum, right after I get off work at Wayne Tower."

His brow furled a little. "You have two jobs?"  
I let out a laugh, alcohol making me feel light and free of my broken past. "Yes. I don't like free time."

"Here we go," the older man comes over quickly, tread and a needle in hand. "We can stitch you up quickly."

I nodded, looking to the side at my bloody hand. I hated the idea of ruining the bedspread. It was so lovely. I felt the tugs and pulls on the wound as he worked. It didn't hurt, the alcohol took the little sting that should have been there away. The man started to talk as he worked.

"Lizzy is it?"

"Yes, Elizabeth," I say with a nod.

"It's a lovely name," he says while looking up at me for a moment. "I'm Alfred."

I smile at him. "If you don't mind my asking, how did you get this gash?" He was so nice. It came out before I stopped to think of the consequences.

"Some mobsters broke in to my house and pushed me through my living room table. Gordon pulled me up without thinking and the glass still on the edge of the frame got me."

"Mobsters?" What was that liquor? It had to be something strong, it made my tongue loose and my thoughts far.

"They were looking for the man who had lived there before me. They were trying to steal from me."

He frowns as he finishes his work. "Does Mr. Gordon know?"

"No."

He gives me a meaningful look. I look away, feeling guilty. The door burst open. I let out a startled cry and hugged my face into the knees of the male who had carried me. Alfred continued to finish cleaning the blood from the now stitched wound. There were other scars along my middle and I had caught both men looking at them.

"Alfred," a male calls as he advances into the room.

"Master Wayne, if you will remain there for but a moment."

The man didn't. He came right up to the bed side. I grabbed the blanket and pulled it up fast, not caring if Alfred was done, besides he had turned to frown at the man. I hid my head under the blanket, fully embarrassed. Wayne was my boss, who I had yet to meet and I didn't want to be seen in such a state. First impressions count.

"What's going on?"

"The young miss is being taken care of. Is there something you needed?"

"Gordon is here. He's asking for an Eliza G."

"I'll go look for her."

"I'll stay with her," the male who had carried me says to the men.

"Good. I'll be back in a bit."

I waited till the door closed and counted to a hundred. I sat up sharply. I had to get the hell out of here. "Gordon is going to show up at my house if he doesn't catch me here." I stand, the dress dropping around my legs smoothly. Thankfully the tread in my abdomen was soft or it would have caught on the dress.

"You're Eliza G.?"

"Elizabeth Gates," I mutter while slipping into my high heels. "Why can't I have a normal day?"

"Here," he says offering an am. He was dorky, but I liked it. He kept looking at me in an odd way. Could he see how desperately I clung to normal? How broken I was? He didn't show it. "I'll help you find Gordon."

I flash a smile, another fake one. The hall to the main room, where the party was, was crowded with cops questioning people. Gordon stood by the door, talking to another cop. There were lots here. I let go of the man and made my way to Gordon quickly, my head down. I didn't want this getting out. He didn't see me coming. I lightly grabbed his arm, looking up at him.

"Don't make a scene."

He led me out the door with the cop. She stuck close, must be one of Gordon's trusted members. I kept my back to the doors.

"We need to get you out of here and to a safe house."

I opened my mouth to comment but the woman shot in.

"It's not safe for you."

My eyes shot to Gordon, hardening. "Nothing is safe here in Gotham."

Gordon sighed before grabbing my hand and snapping a cuff on it.

"What are you doing?!" I yell as he snaps the other behind my back and shoves me in the car. "I've done nothing illegal."

"You won't go to the safe house; we'll keep you in the cells for the night for public drunkenness."

I huff and fall back against t he seat. Tonight was far from a good. It was _Great….._


	9. Chapter 9

I was processed quickly, and put in a cell next to the one full of people. I think it was more of a courtesy than a happening. But I ended up being moved not long later to an interview room. A cot had been set up, a thin blanket on the thing and most of the lights out. I knew they were trying to make it harder to find me, but I felt so tired and wanted to sleep badly.

I awoke to a dark room, sober and blinking at a figure in black. I let out a startled scream, rolling off of the cot and slapping the floor hard. I peaked over the cot at the figure, breath slowing a bit as I learned to as a child. Quiet breaths meant you could hide better. He looked right at me, a few lights coming on by the door on the far side of the room.

"You're safe," he growls in a voice that was clearly not his natural one.

"Batman?" I whisper, using one arm and hand to brush the tangled mass of hair over my shoulders. I could see his masked face a bit now, lights slowly flooding the room. Those eyes followed my injuries, taking in my bruised face, my bandaged hands, and the one hidden by my dress. I flinch a little as I raise to my feet, bending a bit wrong on my stitches. It was clear this kind of injury was far from new to me. I absently hugged myself as I shelled up, hurt and saddened eyes watching him warily.

"How do you know the Joker?"

I look away, hiding behind my hair. I felt utterly small as his eyes needled me, taking in my injuries, how small I looked, pathetic. Just like I felt years ago.

"I work at Arkham," I whisper. "I'm the six to two shift nurse for the ward he was held in."

I turn away from him, memories trying to surface. My anger at his treatment within that ward surfaced as I turned my head a bit to look back at the Batman, cutting him off. "They treated him like an animal. He was in a straight jacket at all times. They made him eat like a dog!" I cover my mouth fast, shock at my out burst clear as day. "I'm sorry," I say quickly. "I should not have raised my voice. It's just so…inhumane. I fed him for a few days, he would try to mock the guard that sat in, listen in to Olens and me."

"Listen in?"

"Just normal stuff, weather, news, updates in our lives. Such as things my friends try to get me to do, my pile up of work at Wayne Ent. Olens' new home, his bonus coming in finally, and normal stuff. I would try to engage him on things, such as stating things posted on the news, putting in a few of my thoughts on it. He liked to listen."

"What did you last speak about with him?"

"I-Olens was not in on that meal. He had to make a run to calm a patient a few doors down. So I undid one strap on the patients jacket, giving him one arm to eat with, and stood by the door, in view of the cameras. I mentioned my friends making me go to a party. He said something about getting dolled up, and that most girls like to look pretty. I went on to tell him of the dress I found in the closet at my home, was my mothers. He didn't push on the subject of my family, but let me complain about having to go to a crowded party full of people I don't know. Olens showed up as the Joker asked about the place and what 'yuppy' was throwing the 'bash'. I casually mentioned who was having it and Olens strapped him up again."

"You saw it with your own eyes?"

"Of course, code says I must check them if I do not do it myself. Poor Olens." I sadly look away, thinking of the man I had befriended at Arkham. "He had a daughter in college."

"Aliza-"

I tense, snapping out quickly. "I'm not Eliza! It's just Beth or Elizabeth." I pause, shaky hands clutching tighter to myself. "Where did you hear that name?" I whisper, fear in my voice.

"Gordon has informed me he calls you Eliza."

"Because he has a friend named Beth," I snip. "It is to insure he does not get confused. Do not call me Eliza." I plead the last word, "Please?"

"What are you hiding, Gates? How were you hurt?"  
"I fell," I reply automatically. "Look, I don't want to be babysat. I have work I must attend to."

My eyes were set on his now, I wasn't being shy with my work, I hardly ever was. He shifts forwards, holding something out to me. I glance down at it, a photo of my mother and father, mother held me close to her, my lip busted and arm in a cast, years old. I shelled up.

"Do you know these people?"

"GORDON!" I cry as I avoid the sight of the photo.

The door flew open, Gordon had clearly been on his way before I called for him. I held myself tighter than before, back to the corner, trying to hide.

_"I told you to listen!" the man screamed at the young girl. She cowered in the corner, trying to look smaller, less of a target. "You were to pack her things while she was gone!"_

_ "I DON'T WANT MOMMY TO GO!" she screamed back. The woman in question entered the room, furious as the girl tried to stand up to her father. The child's arm was broken, in a cast. _

_ The man swung, hitting the girl's mouth. Her lip busted from the contact of the fist, falling to the ground hard. The woman snatched the child up, eyes furiously on the man. _

_ "What a happy moment," a man mocks, snapping a Polaroid. "Get the bitch and leave the child," he cruelly orders to the other men who were behind him in the living room._

I tried to resist the sound of the angry voice. But it was hard.

"I told you not to show her the picture or ask her," Gordon growls as he stands close to me. He turns to look at my pain filled brown eyes. "Elizabeth?"

"I'm fine," I whisper, eyes pointedly avoiding them. I felt like all I had worked for was gone, utterly broken, pathetic. "Can I go home?"

"We can't let you return to your home, Miss Gates. The Joker undoubtedly knows where you live. It is unsafe," the Batman growls out.

I whip around to glare at him. "It was unsafe for me to feed him, unsafe for me to work at Arkham, unsafe to move to Gotham. It was doubly unsafe to rush back into that party to help the people. Do you think I care what is safe? I want to go home." I never thought I had that kind of back bone. I blush, angry, and embarrassed. I pushed through it though. Gordon sent a surprised look my way.

"Elizabeth, please understand," Gordon says softly, resting a hand on my shoulder. "We don't want you hurt, we want to protect you."

"Then you should have done it years ago when I actually needed it," I snap furiously, eyes flashing dangerously him.

"Are you saying your father hurt you and your mother, Eliza?"

I frown, pulling away. "I'm saying nothing on the matter, Jim. He did nothing out of the ordinary for Gotham." I look away, staring at the mirrors, fury at my past. "I will not condemn a dead man to sins he has already confronted in his passing.," I whisper.

"Eliza, you just said-"

"I don't care!" I snarl, hands tangling in my hair, eyes shutting tight. "I see you as a father, Jim, but please, just let me forget my past. I worked so hard." I was begging, eyes watering. "I can't take the memories and all I have is normalcy. Please, just let me pretend to have it."

"I can not allow you to return home, Aliza."

"She can go under witness protection," Batman suggests, making me remember that he was there.

I looked up at him, eyes showing my broken soul for once. "I-"

"She wont leave town," Gordon says with a knowing look at his shoes, hands on his hips.

"Then send her some where within town, with lots of eyes to watch her."

"I don't have many friends," I suggest, "If I van-"

"We are not risking you," Gordon snips sternly.

"One for the price of many, James!" I cry indignantly, hands motioning with my words and strong emotion. "I have nothing to live for, what right do I have to risk the lives of others? I am nobody!" I was ranting, moving in my anger, hands flying with my words. "I will not let some man dressed as a clown hurt others when I am at fault! I nursed him, he obviously holds something for me! Just let it be as it should…"

I had tears in my eyes as I let the end run off, my pain showing with my voice. I was avoiding looking at the two, arms hugging myself, back to them, face toward the back mirrored window. I pressed to the window as I felt the person nearing me.

"Don't," I plead, hair hiding my face. They paused, not touching me. Yet. "Jus-Just let me…" I took a calming breath. "I cannot miss my work. I will not."

"Aliza-"

"Don't call me that."

"You'll have to take refuge with somebody."

"What of her boss?" the Batman offers.

"I will not stay with anyone I do not know."

"You do not know your boss?" Gordon asks.

"I know the ones of Arkham, they are no doubt out of the question. But I do not know my other boss. I come in, do my work and leave. I do not know Bruce beyond the party tonight. He is a stranger. I will not intrude."

"I'll call around."

"I want out of this dress."


	10. Chapter 10

The police escort was small, Gordon and Ramirez. An older man, Bruce's butler, was supposed to be at the house waiting for me. I was not allowed to carry my things, on orders from the doctor they had look me over earlier. I felt useless, pathetic, and angry as we stepped out of the vehicle.

Wayne Manor was an entirely different sight in the light of day. Breathe taking as it was, it didn't help with the matter. I was to pose as Bruce's new 'fling'. Mr. Wayne was all for it, even offering to cloth me. That brought out the next range of fighting from me. In the end, Gordon himself went to my home and packed my bags for me.

"Gordon, I don't want to do this," I whisper as he knocks on the door.

"You'll be fine, Elizabeth. I'll check on you daily." He lets out a slow breath and a smile at me, tired. "Besides, Wayne has the best security systems in all of Gotham. No better place."

The door swung open, causing me to shut my mouth and look to the man. It was the older man who had stitched me up. I flash a smile at the man, pushing forwards to give him a hug.

"Thank you for helping me the other night," I say heartfelt and open.

"It was the least I could have done, Miss," he says with a smile at me, looking over the now clear damage.

I looked like crap, but that was expected. My hair hung down in fresh, damp waves. I had on sweats and a shirt that were way too large for my smaller frame. One of the officers had donated them for my use.

He took my coat from me as soon as we were all in the doors. Gordon set my bags sown as he held out a phone to me, a small prepaid phone, cheap. I took it, looking at him with a light frown.

"I could hav-"

"No. Elizabeth, Mr. Pennyworth and Mr. Wayne will take good care of you."

"I am not a child!" I snap, for the millionth time. "I do not need sitters. I have taken care of myself for many years now."

"Look where it has gotten you," Gordon snips, tired, just as I was.

My mouth snapped shut, angry beyond words. It flashed in my form and flaming eyes. He reached out to touch my shoulder, mouth open to apologize.

"Don't," I snarl, jerking back. He looked saddened that he had actually said that. I whirled, jerking up my lighter bag and rushing up the stairs as the bug hung from my shoulder.

"Elizabeth!" Gordon calls.

I didn't stop, I moved further away, wanting to be on my own.

Alfred calmly watched the young female rush off. Gordon clearly was strained and tired, as was Elizabeth.

"She'll come around, Commissioner," Alfred says with a knowing look in his eyes.

"I hope so," he says with a soft tone. "She's bound to do something. Keep an eye on her."

Bruce sighed, rubbing his eyes as he entered, passing through the door from the garage into the kitchen. Alfred was at the counter, chopping fruit. Bruce flashed a smile before lifting a curious brow.

"Fruit? Is it part of desert?"

"No. Miss Gates seems to not be in the state for heavy foods," Alfred replies while carefully placing the fruit on the dish set out.

"She's here? Already?"

"She's been here since you left this morning for the office. She seemed to be having a tiff with Mr. Gordon." Alfred falls silent as he turns to fill the glass on the tray. A thoughtful look was on his face.

"What do you think of her, Alfred?"

"She's a quiet one. Rather unsure of herself, I gather, and stubborn. She seems to be coming into her own."

"She's got something she's hiding from everyone."

Bruce leans against the counter, thinking deeply. "She works two jobs, and has only two friends. She seems to always be busy."

"Because she has to be."

"She's not in need of the money, Alfred."

"No, she's not."

With that, Alfred left the room with the trey. Bruce frowned as he thought that over. Alfred knew something.

Alfred sighed as he closed the door to the room behind him, the tray in his hands covered. Bruce paused, eyes lifting hopefully. He hadn't seen the girl as Bruce since the party, not awake at least. She seemed to always be sleeping. It had been well into a week since then.

"She's sleeping, sir."

"She's always sleeping. Do you think we should call a doctor?"

"She's healing from dangerous wounds, Master Wayne. In her state, I would expect nothing less. Give it a few days."

Bruce frowned at the door as Alfred carried on his way. He shook his head and left for work.

I sighed, head resting on the glass of the window as I looked out at the rain. A large sweater engulfed my frame, my small form pulled on to the large window seat, pressed lazily into as small a mass as I could manage. Two weeks in this place and I wanted out. I wanted out so badly.

I burst to my feet, not thinking, just acting. Alfred had his eyes on me at all times, not letting me out. He always said I needed either he or Mr. Wayne with me to leave the confines of the building. I knew the exits were under his careful eyes' watch. I pushed the window open fast, throwing myself from the five foot difference. I rolled, mud caking me as I took the momentum in stride, rolling to my feet and booking it without care of the downpour soaking my sweater and jeans. My bare feet squished in the mud, the substance fitting around my toes in a way I hadn't felt since childhood. I loved the feel of the rain on my skin, mud between my toes, clothes pulling me down with the water weight. I spun in the garden, hands up and out, a laugh escaping me at the feel of it all, the liberation.

I kicked at puddles, laughing at the simplistic pleasure, the childish joy at this easy thing, this rain, this mud. Everything was gone as I launched a mud ball blindly, ducking away with flaming cheeks and girlish giggles as I realized I had hit Bruce. He must have spotted me on his way in from work. I hadn't noticed time as I had played. But I noticed that it wasn't morning anymore. Bruce laughed merrily as he realized what had happened. Mud was launched back, I squealed, diving out of the way and our war starting.

It carried on for a good while, both of us caked in the earthy substance. Bruce caught me eventually, his arms scooping me up by my waist as I had tried to make a playful dash away. Time slowed.

Our laughter slowed, eyes locked. I stilled, my hands innocently rested on his chest, our smiles contented. I searched his eyes, unsure of what this feeling was. I had never felt so…light, at peace, happy. He leaned in, closing some of the distance between us. I was too surprised by it all to understand what he was doing.

Our lips met in a soft press. I became less aware of my feet dangling a foot off the ground, and more aware of his lips on mine. I pulled a way with a shocked gasp. Breaking from his hold quickly I ran. I ran as fast as I could, for the manor. Alfred was shocked by my water and mud logged self rushing in and down the halls. I didn't stop, pale except for the flame on my cheeks, eyes wide.

I fell into the shower of a room far back in the manor, the water rained down on me in a warm pour, rinsing the mud from the clothes still on my form. I had just kissed my boss. Mr. Wayne. Bruce. Why? Why did I feel, odd?

Dinner was to be eaten together. Alfred insisted that I eat in with Mr. Wayne. Today was the first time he and I had actually inter acted. I had seen him without his notice, he had seen me. Nothing more. I slipped into the room silently, the jeans were old, torn, but comfortable, and the shirt was a simple black baby t.

Bruce was at the table, talking to Alfred quietly as I shut the door. Their voices cut off at the sound of the door closing. Alfred smiled as he looked at me, Bruce stood, a smile of his own. I blushed, looking away from their open smiles.

"I'm sorry I'm late," I say quietly as I sit at the table.

"It is quite alright, Miss Gates," Alfred says warmly as he sets a plate before me. "Master Wayne had just arrived as well.'

Alfred turned to leave, I called out quickly. "Please join us, Mr. Pennyworth."

My cheeks flamed at my outburst, hand over my mouth, eyes down cast. This is Bruce's home, I had no right to ask. I just felt better with Alfred here. I had eaten every meal with him since my arrival and it didn't seem right to eat without him. I looked up as the hand on my shoulder. Alfred had that glow in his eyes, rather like a father happy at his child. I smiled back, my hand touching his before letting it drop.

"I'm just-"

"It's fine, Miss Gates. I understand. But I have business to attend. Master Wayne will be here with you."

He gave my shoulder a squeeze before leaving. I watch his retreat, back stiffening as I realize my shield had fallen. I straighten in my chair, shoulders rolling back with pride.

"Are you uncomfortable with me?"

I jolt a bit in surprise at his voice. I look right at him. "No. I'm just-" I realize how fragile I sounded and clear my throat before trying again. "I've grown used to his presence during meals."

"It's understandable, Miss Gates."

"Elizabeth," I interrupt. "Call me Elizabeth."

"Elizabeth." He smiles, I blush looking down at my plate and moving the food a bit with my fork. I liked the way it sounded coming off his lips. "Call me Bruce then."

I look up, not so nervous now that he hadn't rejected the light mood like I had expected. "Bruce." I lock eyes for a second before blushing and biting my lip, fighting the smile trying to take me.

"Alfred said you've healed?"

He sounded unsure. My eyes flick to my hands. Pink scars marred the flesh, healed, but not fully. I lift my hand for him to better see. "Yes. They don't hurt anymore either." I look up, my bruise free face fully visible. "Gordon says I can go out soon. He thinks if Joker sees me without wounds, that he will loose interest." I frown, moving my food, letting a pause run deep, he knew I wasn't done. "My bosses at Arkham say that it's the fact that I seem so… in need that he chases me." I look up, my strong emotions pushing to the front, I was as I was with Joker at the party with Bruce at this moment. It felt right. "I think it is a twisted form of the Nightengail complex. Instead of me falling for him…I think it has an actual name."

I frown, lips shifting to the side in thought. I look up with a smile. "How's work?"

"The usual," Bruce laughs. "Do you not have hobbies, Elizabeth? Or is playing in the rain and mud a hobby?" A sly smirk took his lips. I blush a bit, looking away at the memory of the kiss and how childish it was. Normal adults don't do that. Do they?

"I-" I gulp a sip of wine quickly. "I do not have hobbies. I keep myself too busy for them." I cut at the meat on my plate before deciding on how to answer the last question. "You caught me in a moment of …" I was searching for the word most obviously.

"Fun?"

"If you call jumping from the window and running around in the mud and rain like a child fun," I laugh, hand slapping over my mouth at the girlish giggle.

Bruce smiles at me. "I call it being human." He takes the time to cut and eat a piece of meat before continuing. I was looking at him expectantly, needing to hear that I had some kind of normality. "I sure enjoyed it."

"So it's normal to play in the mud and rain?"

"I wouldn't call it normal." I feel my heart give a painful clinch. I look back down to my foot, hoping he did not see the pained look in my eyes or the breath I had held gushing out. He spoke up again though. "But what is normal?"

I frown as I look up at him. "Normal is what is expected and needed to seem human."

"Is it?" He hums in thoughts, looking up at the roof. "Then I must not be normal." He was teasing me.

I jolt to my feet, chair screeching against the marble floor. I slap my napkin down and whirl to leave the room. I was clearly angered. Bruce jumped to his feet.

"Elizabeth!"

I march off quickly in my huff. I heard his bare feet hit the floor only once before it was silence. I took off faster, feeling tears in my eyes, feeling him behind me. I knew he was catching up, but my smaller frame made me more agile, I ducked down corners with ease. He slowed a bit at each corner, having to redirect his momentum.

"Elizabeth! Did I say something?" he calls as he eats up the halls distance with his longer legs.

I whip into a room, slamming the door fast and whacking the bolt into place audibly. I heard Bruce press his palm to the door. I pressed my head against the solid wood, trying to calm my heart. He knew I was at the door. How I knew, he hadn't tried the door or said anything, just listening.

I covered my mouth as I fought the sobs causing my chest to hurt and shake.

"Elizabeth," Bruce says softly.

I pull away from the door, holding an arm around my chest. I didn't understand why I took his joke as a jab at me. But it hurt, and it made me remember things. My eyes closed as I slid down the wall next to the door.

"Let me help you, Elizabeth."

I bite my lip, loosing the fight to say something. "How? Nothing can fix my damage."

"Don't say that."

"Why?" I let my head rest on the wall, the tears falling silently now. "It's not like you will understand."

"I understand pain, Elizabeth."

I lazily look at the room. "I do not think you will understand mine, Bruce. You come from a different class. A different world."

"Class does nothing to stop pain," he says, the hints of anger at some past pain in his voice.

I look toward the door, my eyes resting on the golden handle.

"Some pains, will never reach you," I whisper.

"Then explain to me and let me try to understand."

I was tempted. I wanted to tell somebody of my pain, but some part of me told me to keep it. It is mine. But psychologists always say the first step is to tell, to get it out.

"Bruce," I whisper, head to my knees. "I don't think it would matter to you. Just- just let me have a second to gather my wits."

I slowed my breathing, calming myself. It was not the time to tell him. I stood after a deep breath, wiping at my face as I pulled the lock out. The door swung open to my mischievous smile.

"Teach me hobbies."


	11. AUTHOR'S NOTE

To my readers:

I'm sorry to inform you all of the pathetic reasons behind my lack of updating. I've been in the midst, of moving for over a month now and still am not fully finished. During the first week of this move I lost the jump drive in the living room. Now this jump drive is my life. All of my stories, and when I say all I mean ALL, even one's I haven't posted. I have yet to have a chance to give a thorough search for it, and neither have my roommates. But do not fear. I will be searching soon. And I will pick up the stories.

But it may be a bit. I'm at the end of season for one of my jobs, and the boss and her cohort of a friend are slacking, in brain cells, and I spend more time stressing over solving this 'simple' issues that are unfathomable. I have no idea how they do it. Boss has been here two years and I still clean up after her blond mistakes. Now the other… Don't get me started. But I will be in a frenzy to help close the place down, and trust me it's a huge task. And after all of this, I hope to try getting on at the factory. Yay for better jobs.

And here is the kicker all:

**For Jezika fans**- I'm at a loss on where I was taking this. And I'm a bit stuck. If anyone has ideas, please please please tell this insipid author. I don't have that chapter after the last I posted for you all like I normally do.

**For Emaly fans**- I understand fully why I've not been able to post. I lost a gosh darned chapter somewhere and I found it. But now I have to go over it again and remember where I am. I believe the next chapter is written, but don't hold me to it until I have the jump drive. I know where I want this to go, but I don't have plot points set out, just hitting and missing with it. It's as much of a surprise for me as it is for you all when it comes out. I just happen to see it first. So keep an eye out once I put up the bulletin on my author's page when I find the drive.

**For Other fans**- Alright yall. Not sure I'm ever going to continue _Fire and Earth_. I royally ruined that somewhere and I can't, for the life of me, figure out where. But that was always just a wasting time kinda writing. I hate to say it though. I started it when I got bored in math class during high school and I would write on it every day, during math class. (It's a wonder that I aced that class. More of a wonder that I was never in trouble for not paying attention.) And now that math classes are over, until I get to college, I've not had reason to write on it. But I'm currently at a place without internet, so other stories I have posted on…sorry but they may not be continued either. Well, no, _Broken_ will be. That's a different story all together.

You see I started _Broken_ when I had a friend who was utterly depressed. And me being the nerd who doesn't get depressed, ever, I tried to understand her. And it's a fight for me to write that one. So I always have to upset somebody. And I loath doing that. SO! I've been trying to go on my own. And bugers' it aint workin'. So I have to bug my friend's again, try to get them to help me get a better feeling for well, this feeling. So hold on yall. It's a-comin'!

Thanks for taking the time to read this everyone. Please hold on tight, I'm going to fix all of this as soon as my special self can. And yes, I do so very much hope to never have this happen again.

_Gaibriel _


	12. BLURB

Dear Readers,

Sorry for the long wait on the update. But… I've currently run into a rut. I haven't really written anything on Broken or any other stories you are aware of. I have written a little on other stories, none really in the Batman or Harry Potter genre. Sadly I must admit that I have lost my muse for Broken, Harry Potter is a bit of a tangle of knots for me.

This Author's Note is to inform and enquire from all whether they would like to hear of my other stories or more of Broken and Potter. In the form of the last bit, I must put Broken up for adoption. I've little understanding of depression, if it was not noticeable to the eye within a few chapters. Not to mention I have lost all plans or ideas of where I originally wished for it to lead. I am willing to allow another author to take the reins and ride with it. There are a few conditions though, and they aren't too bother some. I want to a practice draft of where you would take the story, starting from where I have last posted and a short description of a few ideas, all preferably sent PM or email.

Please be warned that I hardly trust my own family or friends with reading my own works, let alone tell them my passwords for my drives or names for sites. As mentioned before, please message me.

Another story that is up, the sequel to the There Is No Turning Back The Clock. It will be the lives of the children. I will admit, I have nothing written for them, Nada. And It is completely open for any viewing eye to take hold of, but again please contact me with a short preview of the first chapter and a rough plot. I like to know that it will be in the right hands.

As for the other stories, they are numerous and vastly different, in my opinion. I'm currently on True Blood, Pirates of the Carribean, Anita Blake, and maybe a story or two on Repo! The Genetic Opera. Message me on your thoughts, y'all! I love to know what you all think. Thank you all for taking the time to read this useless blurb.

Gaibriel


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